


Scars

by WhyNotFly



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Hitting, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Physical Abuse, jon is definitely not having a great time here, one tender moment doesn't make it all better, pre-coffin daisy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21745636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyNotFly/pseuds/WhyNotFly
Summary: All of Daisy's kisses were violent.  Jon didn't mind.  He didn't mind that Daisy was never naked in front of him.  He didn't mind that Daisy was always pushing him, tearing him apart and leaving him to piece himself back together late at night, alone.  He didn't mind being used, but he hated being discarded.  Every night, when Daisy was finished, Jon was thanklessly pushed out the door.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Alice “Daisy” Tonner
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	Scars

All of Daisy's kisses were violent. Jon didn't mind. He didn't mind that Daisy was never naked in front of him. He didn't mind that Daisy was always pushing him, tearing him apart and leaving him to piece himself back together late at night, alone. He didn't mind being used, but he hated being discarded. Every night, when Daisy was finished, Jon was thanklessly pushed out the door.

“I don't like having you around,” Daisy had said. “Fuck off.”

He wanted to know more about Daisy. It wasn't that he was in love with her, he wasn't in love with her, he was just fascinated. Fascinated enough to let himself be used if it meant being close to her. That was the only reason. Jon didn't see a difference between kisses and punches if it meant he was allowed to be near Daisy. 

He wasn't in love with her.

Jon's mouth was buzzing as Daisy pulled out of their kiss. His jaw ached. He wondered, off-handedly, if Daisy kissed so roughly just to keep him from speaking. Jon gasped in breath, struggling to find the space to say the words that had been building in his throat all night. He was too aware of the taste of his own teeth, and of Daisy's teeth, and of the thick numbness of his tongue.

“You look pathetic,” said Daisy, seeming pleased with herself.

“You have a scar,” said Jon. The thin, drawn line on Daisy's chin had been distracting him all night. It wasn't surprising for someone of Daisy's violent tendencies to have scars, but Jon was intrigued. He was always intrigued by Daisy.

Daisy sat up, frowning at Jon's words and Jon followed her, his breath slowing, the sweat drying behind his ears and making him shiver. Jon met Daisy's narrow-eyed gaze without fear. They were together every night. He had earned this, he had earned this much.

“You have a scar,” Jon repeated, reaching out a careful hand towards Daisy's face. He didn't mean to, but he wanted to know more and then he did, Daisy's knowledge filling Jon's head. He craved more. “You have _many_ scars.”

Daisy's movement was a blur as she grabbed Jon by the bangs and tugged his head down sharply. Usually Jon tried to stay quiet, but he was caught off guard and let out a yelp of pain. Daisy dragged him by the hair until their eyes met.

“Get the fuck out of my head.”

“I'm sorry,” said Jon, “I didn't mean to.”

Daisy growled and flung Jon full force. He thought his hair was going to be ripped from his head, but Daisy released at the last moment and Jon simply tumbled off the bed, crashing indelicately to the ground in a mess of elbows and ribs.

The room was quiet as Jon slowly gathered himself. He didn't want to get up too soon or begin talking again until Daisy had calmed down. There was still a chance that they could have a conversation if he was silent for long enough. Daisy liked him better when he was silent. Jon cursed his inability to keep his mind to himself.

“It's natural to get scars when you're a cop,” said Daisy, at last, and Jon breathed out a silent sigh of relief. He sat up on the floor, checking surreptitiously to make sure that Daisy wasn't reacting negatively as he did so, but she didn't even seem to notice. Daisy cast her eyes down to Jon and Jon froze for a moment, but Daisy didn't seem upset. “Why are you so interested? You have plenty of your own.”

“But you know all of mine,” answered Jon, self-consciously grazing his fingers against the deep purple bruise beginning to blossom on the edge of his neck from earlier in the night.

Daisy sighed and slid off the bed until she was sitting next to Jon on the floor. She held out her hands and Jon could see the spiderwebs of thin, pale scars shining in the lamplight. He wanted to touch them, felt it itch in his fingers, but held himself back, remembering what had happened last time.

“Most of these scars are from a long time ago,” said Daisy, each word sounding as if it was forced into existence. “Before I joined the force, before I knew what I was doing.”

“How old were you?” Asked Jon, and Daisy tightened her hands into fists. Jon knew she wouldn't answer that one. So he changed it. “Did it hurt?”

“That's a stupid question,” said Daisy, unfurling her scarred hands again and rubbing a finger up and down her palm. “Of course it hurt, they're scars. But that's not important. Everything hurts at first and then you suck it up until you get to the point where you're not being hurt anymore.”

“And then you find another thing that hurts you,” said Jon quietly, gazing at the scar cutting across Daisy's chin. He might have pulled the thought from Daisy's head, but he couldn't tell. If he had, Daisy didn't bring it up.

“May I touch them?” Jon asked. The unasked question _May I touch you?_ hung in the air between them. Although the two were often touching, it was always Daisy taking handfuls of Jon, and never the other way around. Jon tried to sit up straighter, but flinched from a sudden cutting pain in his side. He must have fallen harder than he'd thought off the bed. Everything hurts at first.

The refusal was plain in Daisy's eyes, but for some reason she balked. Tossed her head and held out a hand to Jon. “Fine,” she said. “Just this once.”

As if terrified that it would be taken away from him, Jon reached out slowly and placed just the tip of a finger to the edge of a scar. As he dragged his touch down the back of Daisy's hand, Daisy seemed to shiver a little, more vulnerable than Jon had ever seen her be. Perhaps that was why she never let Jon touch her.

“They're beautiful,” said Jon. Daisy stiffened and pulled her hand back, rising to her feet. Her stormy expression was back and Jon thought she might kick him.

“I'm done. Get out. That's it.”

Jon stood. It was the same every night. As soon as they were getting anywhere, Daisy dumped Jon to the curb. “But—” Jon began before a hard slap to his ear sent his head spinning. Through his muddled thoughts, he heard Daisy.

“Get out of my room before I tear the whole ear off.”

After all of this time, Jon still could not tell when Daisy was making empty threats. Maybe it's because her threats were never empty. Jon didn't wait around to find out, he stumbled to the door and left, just like last night. And the night before that. Each night he left bruised or bleeding, and always emptier than he went in. It was a zero-sum game. It was beating his head against a brick wall. It was a slow, painful suicide.

Jon looked down at his hands as his blurring vision cleared. He pressed the finger that had touched Daisy to his lips and closed his eyes. Jon knew that tomorrow he would be back here. Jon knew that he wasn't in love with her.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lil darker than I usually go, but I have a bit of a secret jon/daisy fascination. So I'm glad to finally be posting something for them!! Maybe there will be more, maybe there will never be more. Who knows!!
> 
> If you enjoyed, please leave a comment to fuel me for another week, and you can also come yell at me on my tumblr @apatheticbutterflies 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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